Lethal Weapon TV Show Fanfiction: Lethal
by emrys-knight
Summary: Riggs gets a little too protective of his partner, while in the field. Roger gets upset and bothers Martin about it until it causes problems.


Synopsis: Riggs protects Roger from a witness that they needed for a case. The injury is deadly. Roger gets upset and bothers him about it for way too long.

 **(Location: Solo el Mejor)(A Mexican restaurant where their star witness works)**

"Just move my **damn drugs** , **Harrison**." Vicky Martinez said. She was the sixth most powerful drug lord that had ever stepped foot in the United States in the history of crime. She was four foot five of pure rage and power. Her dark brown hair framed her face perfectly and a stare from her dark green eyes could kill a man. Martin and Roger had a witness inside, getting incriminating evidence. Harrison.

"Okay. Okay." Harrison stood and made his way out of the back door. Riggs and Murtaugh ran around back.

"You did great! This is the exact evidence we needed!" Roger said. His mood instantly changed when Harry ripped off the wire and threw it towards the two boys. "What?"

"I can't do it. I'm not going to. She'll kill me and my family no matter what you do." Harrison started to walk away before Murtaugh ran up and grabbed him by the arm. "Don't!" He grabbed a gun out from under his shirt and pointed it at a slowly backing away Roger.

"Put the gun down, Harry!" Riggs yelled.

"No. No, I-I can't. Just let me go." Harrison's hand was shaking.

"You're our **best** chance at taking this witch down." Roger tried to reason with him. "Do you really want to just let her go?" He stepped forward but Harry jerked the gun towards him.

"The first time was a **courtesy**. I don't do those often. I'll tell you one more time. Put the gun down, **now**!" Riggs was getting angry. Harrison started to take a step toward Roger. Martin had seen that look before. He knew what this crazy witness was about to do.

BOOM!

Harrison fell to the ground and a pool of blood formed. The gun fell a few inches from his hand and Roger kicked it away. All of a sudden, Vicky Martinez and her men booked it out of the restaurant and scattered like bats out of Hell. Murtaugh looked back to his partner in disbelief and slight anger.

"What?" Riggs asked. "He was about to shoot you." He shrugged his shoulders and turned around to walk to the car but his partner followed quickly behind and got in front of him.

"You could have just **wounded** him. You didn't have to **kill** him." Roger was angrier, now that the heat had time to settle in.

"I made a split-second decision based on previous experience and the circumstances I was given. I'm sorry if you disagree with me but that's not my fault. I did what I had to do."

"No. There's something more. I know that. You know it too!" Roger was yelling. Riggs was walking back towards the car. Soon enough, officers rolled up to the scene and Murtaugh was able to follow his partner and make their way back to the station.

 *****(Location: Murtaugh House)(It's the next day)(Saturday)**

Trish had just woken up and gotten dressed in her Michigan sweatshirt and blue jean shorts. She walked downstairs to see Riggs and her husband sitting at opposite sides of the couch, facing the television. They were watching a monster truck rally.

"Martin." She said, happily. She smiled.

"Oh hey, Trish. Thanks for inviting me. I hope it's okay I was a bit early." Riggs said, as politely as he could.

"Depends." She walked around the couch and gave Roger a kiss and then crossed her arms while she stood upright, looking at Riggs.. He laid his head on the back of the couch and looked towards her. "Have you eaten since Sunday, when you had dinner with us?" She asked him.

"Actually, I **have**." He said, all cocky.

"When and what?" She asked, adjusting her stance. He didn't expect her to ask that. He picked his head up then lowered it a little bit.

"A bagel." He said. There was a pause.

" **When**?" She asked, firmly, but with a lot of love. He wouldn't look back at her.

"Wednesday. After my appointment." He said. She pointed to the kitchen.

"Then get off of my couch and get yourself some food. Protein, vegetables and even throw in a **cookie**." Roger laughed as Riggs shot up off of the couch and ran into the kitchen. " **You**." She turned towards her husband.

"Yes, my beautiful wife?" Roger knew it he was in trouble. It was funnier when it wasn't happening to him. "Have I mentioned how you have such a big heart? I don't know why that **man child** …" Riggs scoffed. "...is in that really **big** , **beautiful** , **intelligent** heart but there's just a lot of room for a lot of love."

"You should have made him food. You should have offered him breakfast." Trish walked towards the kitchen to help Martin.

"I did but he said no." Roger defended himself like a teenager who's being fussed at by his parents for not doing something for a sibling.

"He didn't." Riggs lied. Trish looked him straight in the eye. "He did." He looked back down to the food he was making. She looked concerned for a moment.

"Baby can you get me my black flip flops?" She asked. He nodded yes and walked towards the stairs. When he was up and out of sight, she turned to Riggs. "Martin."

"You said I could have a cookie." He whined.

"No." She laughed a small laugh. She looked back at the stairs to make sure Roger wasn't back then faced him again. "Please stop doing this."

"What?" He knew what. He just didn't really want to talk about it.

"You and I are going to the store today. You're going to get whatever I tell you to. You're going to eat breakfast, lunch and dinner. You don't have to have snacks. Just three meals a day." She said. He could see the fear in her eyes.

"Honey, I can't find them!" Roger yelled from upstairs.

"They're there!" She said. "In the **closet**!"

"I promise." Martin said.

"Thank you." She walked over towards the front door and put on the black flip flops to the side. Riggs let a stiff exhale out of his nose. They weren't in the closet. "Nevermind! I found them!" Roger hopped back down the stairs and grabbed the cookie off of Martin's plate when he got to the kitchen. Poor little Martin let out a little puppy whimper.

"You don't need the cookie. As long as you have some food." Trish laughed.

Riggs went into the dining room and sat at the table to eat his food. Trish went and sat next to Roger on the couch. She turned up the television's volume.

"Thank you!" Riggs yelled. Trish smiled, then looked to her husband. She had noticed on her way downstairs that morning that something was off with them. They normally sat closer and were at least grumbling a little bit to each other. But this morning? **This** morning, they were far apart and completely silent and neither of them was asleep. If one of them was sleeping, it'd explain why they were quiet.

"What's up with you two?" She asked.

"Nothing, baby." Roger patted her knee. She swiped it away.

"Roger." She scolded ever so slightly. He dropped his head and it swayed side to side for a second then lifted it back up and looked to her.

"He shot a witness in a case we had. Problem is, he could have injured the guy instead of killing him. He told me it was a split second thing but I know there's something else I just can't figure out **what** and he won't tell me." Roger crossed his arms, looking to get a response from Trish, who now had a concerned look on her face.

 *****(Location: Dr. Cahill's Office) (it's Monday)**

"Knock knock." Trish said.

"Oh. Mrs. Murtaugh." Maureen said, looking up from her laptop. "What brings you here?"

"You can call me Trish. I'm here about Martin."

"What'd he do, now?" Cahill laughed. She gestured for Trish to sit down and she went to her "therapist chair".

"He shot somebody." She sat down on the couch. "Oh. This is **comfortable**."

"Was it a client of yours?"

"Oh, no. It's just that Roger was upset about it. He said that he could have wounded the man but he didn't. He killed him."

"That happens sometimes. Cops are faced with a situation and everything moves so fast that their decision is made too quick. They don't have time to sit and take opinions from everyone involved and they can't always properly analyze the situation. I'd ask that you look at it from his perspective. See, you weren't there. You don't know what it was like in the heat of the moment."

"Oh **no**. No. I'm not worried about the **fact** that he killed someone. I'm worried about why. Roger said that Martin made it out to be a split second decision, like what you were talking about, but he said he felt that it was more than that and he didn't know what. He asked him but he won't tell him. Do you think you have any insight? I'm not asking for you to breach doctor-patient but maybe some opinions?"

"I know him as well as someone who's never met him." They both laughed. "I think that in his own time, he'll open up and you'll be able to figure it out." Trish stood up along with Cahill. "But you have to give him time and space for it. That's just how he is. If Martin Riggs doesn't want to do something, he's not going to do it and there's nothing anyone can do or say about it that will change that. Only **he** can."

"Thank you." Trish said. She shook hands with the doctor and left the room. "Time to free an **innocent** man!" Cahill couldn't help but laugh.

 *****(Location: The Bullpen)(it's Wednesday)**

The boys were sitting at their desks working on paperwork and adding things to their digital files. Roger kept looking up at Riggs and looking back down to his work.

" **What**?" Martin asked. "What are you doing?"

"Why didn't you just shoot him in the leg or arm or something?" Roger asked. Riggs huffed.

"I'm not talking to you about this."

"Come on, man. Why can't you just tell…" An alarm went off on Martin's phone. "What's that?"

"Lunchtime alarm. I promised Trish I'd eat 3 meals a day. It's twelve. She told me that's a good time for lunch. I didn't try to argue."

"Just…" Before Roger could get the rest of his sentence out, Riggs had already gotten his gun and badge out of his drawer and grabbed his wallet. He stood up, stuffed the gun in the back of his pants and clipped his badge to the hip of his pant. He walked away and went towards the elevators without another word.

 *****(Location: Los Angeles Courthouse)(It's Thursday)**

"We the jury have found, Victoria Martinez, on the accounts of drug trafficking, the creation and leadership of a cartel and murder…. **Guilty**." Jury member one stated for the court. The entire side of the prosecution cheered and embraced each other. Perfect strangers were hugging like they'd known each other for all of their lives. Martin and Roger walked outside of the room, heading to the doors when Roger stopped.

"What?" Riggs asked.

"Can you just tell me?" Murtaugh asked.

"Rog, let it **go**." He was starting to get angry about it. He stormed off, leaving his partner in the dust.

"What was that about?" Trish asked.

"I just want to know why he took the shot." Roger sighed. Trish hugged him.

"On his own time." That's all she said. They finally let go of each other and she walked towards the exit that Riggs had previously taken. Roger started to think about that but he just couldn't settle with "On his own time." He needed to know.

 *****(Location: Riggs's RV)(It's Saturday again)**

"Take your love on our luxury cruise today! Offer ending soon." The television said. There it was. The generic couple prancing up that stupid ramp onto that stupid boat to go have a jolly old time together. They're just going to kiss and smile and all the while, Riggs is alone. He took a deep breath. He started to slowly reach for the gun

*Knock knock knock*

 _Or_ _ **not**_ _._ He thought.

"You descent?" Roger asked.

"Never." Martin said. He sat up and stood up. Roger opened the door and stepped in with Trish following. " **Oh**. Sorry." He quickly grabbed a clean shirt from the drawer under his television.

"You're fine, Martin." Trish laughed.

"Here's the laundry you left at the house." Roger sat the basket down on the coffee table and looked around. "It's surprisingly **clean** in here."

"Trish helped me with it, yesterday." Riggs said. He smiled like a proud child after he finished pulling his tight grey sweater over his head. He spread his arms out and twisted his hips as to say, "look it!".

"Look, I wanted to come here to talk to you about Harrison and for some reason, Trish decided to join." Roger said.

"I just figured you didn't want to talk about it and I know you won't hit him if I'm here." She laughed.

"Then would you mind stepping out? And you're right. I can't." He tilted his head and smiled as sweetly as he could as to not offend her. She understood his little joke. **Half** joke but... joke nonetheless. She nodded no, regardless. "I made the choice I made and that's that." He walked towards the fridge, grabbed a beer and two bottles of water. He set them on the counter and opened his, leaning back on the fridge. He was holding back his emotions and it was getting more difficult the more Rog asked questions.

"I know there's more to it, Riggs." Roger kept pressuring him. Trish was going to say something but she didn't for some reason. Even she didn't know why. Martin set his bottle down.

"Please just stop." Riggs was getting frustrated and scared at the same time.

"Roger, I think that's enough." She grabbed her husband's arm but he wouldn't let it go.

"Just tell me, man. I'm your **partner**! Do you not trust me enough that you can't tell me why you did what you did? Did you know him from Texas? Did you just **want** to kill him?!" He went on and on. Martin stood straight, no longer leaning on the fridge.

" **Roger**!" Trish yelled. She saw it affecting him.

 _Apparently Roger can't._ She thought.

"What is it, Riggs?!" He yelled.

"I can't!" Martin yelled. He was trying so hard to bottle it all up.

"You can't **what**?! You can't **trust me**?!" He asked. He knew all too well that **that** wasn't it. He just wanted to get him riled up so he'd answer.

"I can't **lose** you!" Martin yelled at the top of his lungs. If he were any louder, the RV would have shaken. Roger's jaw dropped and he took a step back, now pressing up against Trish. "I can't. You're all I have left. Trish, Rihanna and RJ. You're all I have and I can't lose everything again. I'm afraid I'll **snap**. I might... I-I-I." He tried. He saw the room start to spin a little bit. Trish stepped out from behind Roger, holding her hand on his arm.

"Martin?" She asked. He began hyperventilating. He couldn't talk. He backed up against the refrigerator and slid down to the floor. The room was spinning. "Talk to me, Martin." She ran up and kneeled down next to him while Roger grabbed his phone.

"I need an ambulance at a metal Airstream RV on the beach near Diver's Rock. There's an orange and white pickup truck parked outside and an old beige Ford car." Roger said into the phone. Riggs couldn't speak up. He was having a panic attack but it wouldn't stop so he couldn't say anything. Trish was now crying, which made him even more upset and the attack was stronger. He was unhappy that he couldn't tell her he was "fine".

The paramedics got there quickly because they happened to be right around the corner. The attack was getting smaller but it was still there. He still couldn't speak. A shorter woman walked into the space with her bag of medical equipment with a slightly taller man following closely behind.

"Mr. Riggs?" The lady asked. He wasn't responsive. It was only working him up more. The woman had hooked him up to the portable EKG and a blood-pressure cuff.

"Is he going to be okay?" Trish asked, frantic.

"He'll be fine." The man said. Everybody but Riggs looked to him. "What? It's a panic attack. I've seen these before. My cousin used to get 'em. He'll be perfectly fine, ma'am." The man left while the woman stayed and took a look at his vitals. The attack finally subsided and he was able to speak again.

"He was right." Riggs said silently. He wasn't embarrassed like he thought he should probably be. He didn't even **slightly** care.

"Oh, thank God." Trish said quickly. She hugged him as hard as she could.

"Your vitals are fine. You and my partner were right. It was just a panic attack." The paramedic explained. Riggs winced and tensed up in his core for a moment then released. "Your lungs feel like they're throbbing?"

"Yeah." He said, again, silently. He already knew what it was but he let her explain for the Murtaughs.

"It's not bad. It's only your lungs reacting to what just happened to them." She said. She took the leads off of him and unwrapped the blood pressure cuff. "Although, you should try to avoid any situations that might cause these. Often, constant and strenuous strain on the lungs isn't good for them." She went on. She stuck her equipment into the bag and stood up.

"Thank you." Roger said.

"No problem." She left and closed the door behind her.

"I-I'm sorry." Roger said.

"No." Riggs said. The Murtaugh's faces turned from concerned to sorrow. "I should have told you. I should have just said something instead of making you bother me about it all week." Trish helped him up and he went and sat on his couch.

"He shouldn't have pushed it. **I** shouldn't have let him come." Trish said, but Martin nodded no.

"This wasn't some crazy special thing. I get these all the time." He said. Trish held back tears. Honestly, so did Roger. "The only thing that really made it an **event** was you calling the ambulance." He grabbed at his torso. He could feel his lungs throbbing but it would stop, soon.

"We'll share the blame." Roger laughed. He plopped down next to Martin.

"I've come to understand that's how best buds work, right?" He asked.

"Right." Trish said, landing on the couch on Riggs's other side. The Murtaughs wrapped their arms around him and hugged him.

*BEEP BEEP BEEP*

The two jumped.

"What the **Hell** was that?!" Trish asked, her breathing audible and quick.

"Dinner!" Martin replied. He jumped up and got to the new oven he got.

"Dammit, Riggs." Roger said, breathing heavy. Everyone laughed.

I hope you like it! I was thinking about what I wanted to see from the show and this was it.

-Trish making Martin eat good meals.

-Martin having a panic attack. It's something people with depression and anxiety struggle with and I think it's realistic.

-Trish doing Martin's laundry like in the movies

(Thank you so much for reading this! Constructive criticism is always welcome!)

(My Tumblr is of the same name. emrys-knight)


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